Have you ever noticed that there are some poems and stories where the popular and most common interpretation completely misses the point?
The mistaken agreed-upon meaning serves a purpose, so it's nice that it came abot, but I look at the source poem or story and wonder how it was so taken so completely wrong.
For example, the Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken.
quote:Two roads diverged in a yellow wood And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other as just as fair And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear Though as for that, the passing there Had worn them really about the same
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet, knowing how way leads onto way I doubted if I should ever come back
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence Two roads diverged in a wood And I took the one less traveled by And that has made all the difference
(emphasis mine)
How did this poem end up as a peon to happiness in noncomformity? A sigh means wistfullness, perhaps conflict. I love this poem still, but he doesn't sound proud of his decision, just that it made all the difference. All the difference can go in both directions.
quote:When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells and run my stick along the public railings and make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain and pick the flowers in other people's gardens and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat and eat three pounds of sausages at a go or only bread and pickles for a week and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry and pay our rent and not swear in the street and set a good example for the children. We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now? So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
From the website, the rules:
quote:Of course, to be a Red Hatter, one should wear a red hat and a clashing purple ensemble at all meetings to keep up the spirit and purpose of the (dis)organization. We also suggest rather strongly that women under 50 stick to the pink hat and lavender attire until THE BIRTHDAY.
Did they actually READ THE POEM??
That this poem has inspired thousands of people to dress all alike and meet in proper groups with strict rules is very bizarre. It's like that Far Side cartoon of the penguin in the middle of a crowd of black and white singing "I just gotta be me!"
Speaking of missing the point, a poster was made of that cartoon, and the publishers colored the singing penguin yellow. *grin* It continues.
Posted by Will B (Member # 7931) on :